


Swing and Fly Away

by underwhomst



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anyways, Best friend Ganke Lee, Dangerous activity, Ganke is a sweetheart, Gwen and Peter will be more relevant than the other spiders sorry, Human Experimentation, Hunter and Hunted, I can't remember if Kraven exists in this universe, I love Jefferson and he loves his son ok, I'm thinking Kraven the Hunter but we'll see if it'll be him or an OC, Identity Reveal, Miles Morales Needs a Hug, Miles Morales Whump, Not Beta Read, Secret Identity, Spideyfam - Freeform, actual dad Peter B. Parker, captured Miles Morales, hurt!Miles, like seriously Miles what the hell, oooo new tags what does this mean? It means I forgot there's nothing special, relevant spidey humor, worried Jefferson Davis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwhomst/pseuds/underwhomst
Summary: "You protect people, my family is part of that people. So you better still be here, for them."Miles wraps up and deals with a run-of-the-mill robbery, but after receiving an eerie message from one of the culprits, Miles is left feeling... different.Miles isn't sure whether to trust the criminal or take it with a grain of salt, but if anything were to happen, he'd know at least a bit.Something may be after him, but for what?





	1. The Prologue

Between his life as Spider-Man and as a student, Miles likes to think he’s balancing the two quite nicely. He goes to school, shows up to class on time, goes to his room and finishes his homework, and when he does he goes on patrol. The length depends on how rough the day was or his energy levels, but it isn’t too uncommon for Spider-Man to be crawling in to the most discreet window at 3 in the morning and go straight to bed. Then the cycle just repeats itself.  
Miles tries his hardest not to think about the empty seat next to him in science, or the lack of people in his universe who know and understand him. He tries to ignore how much he misses them, focusing on his school work and… less legal extracurriculars. The good thing is, both practices do a fairly nice job of distracting him.

-

“Whoa!” Miles dives down as flying daggers smack into the wall above his head. Red lenses squint incredulously, and he peaks above the dumpster that became his cover.” Hey, didn’t your mother ever tell ya throwing sharp objects is dangerous?” Miles jumps out from behind the dumpster, bringing his heel down into the criminal’s shoulder with a flip. The large man goes down with an enraged shout, blindly flailing his hands. Miles quick maneuvers away from the grasping hands, shoving the criminal’s face into the dirty pavement and leaping away. The black-clad Spider-man twirls around to face the two other men in the alley. One of them- the tall one, wearing a beanie? It’s actually a really nice beanie- pulls out what looks like a taser and points it at his chest.

“Make one move, Twinkle Toes, and I’ll zap the ever livin’ shit outta ya!” Beanie threatens, his buddy behind him like some sort of backup. Miles’ lenses shoot upwards in mock surprise, and he jerks his hands up. Beanie’s finger seems to get twitchy.” I said don’t move, Bug Face!”

“Wow, you see now that’s just plain rude. Mama didn’t teach you manners either, did she, Stringy?”

“Hey, l’m warning you-”

POP!

The criminals startle, the taser goes off and hits the wall, then is dropped on the floor forgotten. The two men anxiously spin and watch their surroundings.

“Where the FUCK did he go?!” Beanie snarls. He doesn’t see his friend get taken down behind him with a muffled gasp.

“Right here, Mr. Criminal!” A red and black fist enters the peripheral, then it all goes dark. Beanie-dude crumbles to the floor, and Miles webs him to the side of the wall, dusting off his hands. He surveys his handiwork.” Nice.” He comments, more to himself than anything. There’s a cough behind him, and Miles turns around.

“You better watch yourself, Spider-Man.” It was the other criminal, the one he took down second. He talked slowly, like he was really thinking things through. Eye lenses narrow, and Miles advances towards him. They stare at each other.” Something’s coming for you, man. Huntin’ you. Better be careful or else.” Miles feels a cold, creeping feeling in his limbs. The criminal breathes raggedly, and there’s a weak chuckle.” You’ve caught someone’s eye, Spidey.” Miles can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and he wants to be angry, wants to tell this guy he can screw it to a higher place.

“Why are you telling me this?” Miles says instead, arms crossing as his eyes narrow in suspicion.” We aren’t exactly on the same side here, man. Why help me out?” The criminal studies him with his beady eyes.

“‘Cause…” The slow man says thoughtfully. He watches Miles the whole time.” I may be a criminal, but I stick to the light things.” Miles squints at that, about to mention that he just busted the three guys trying to break into a town store and how that’s not very “light”, but the criminal continues before he had the chance.” I still want a Spider-Man here. You protect people, my family is part of that people.” The beady stare hardens, and Miles suddenly gets the feeling that his whole soul is being exposed and evaluated.” So you better still be here, for them.”

Police sirens echo from the street, jolting the two out of their reverie. Miles takes an instinctive step backwards. The criminal keeps staring at him. Miles finds he has a hard time looking away. The sirens get louder, and the criminal jerks his head.

“Get outta here, Spider-Man!” Miles startles, scaling the brick wall to the roof easily. The criminal is still calling after him.” And make sure you’re here! For their sake and yours!”

Miles swings away, the criminal’s words ringing after him as he swoops between buildings and traffic. His heart is still racing, and it doesn’t slow down even after he does his precautionary four detours before sneaking into his dorm. He tears the mask off his face, chucking it into the open drawer on the desk. He’s breathing hard, hyperventilating maybe. He needs out of the suit. Miles pulls at the spandex, frantically peeling it from his body, knocking into things in his haste. His roomate, Ganke, stirs slightly at the commotion. Miles balls the suit and tosses it into the corner.

He throws on a night shirt, burying himself in the covers of his bed. Wide brown eyes stare out the window, and Miles urges his breathing to slow and to calm down. Can he even trust what that guy said? He’s a criminal, he could have been saying that to get under his skin. Not to say it didn’t work, because it definitely worked, but that’s exactly what a criminal would want to do, right? Miles hasn’t been at this for very long, maybe 4 months? 4 months since Gwen, Peter, and the others. Miles squeezes his eyes shut. They would know what to do, whether to believe the guy or not. He rubs at his dry eyes, willing the burning to go away. God, he misses them more than anything. He wishes they were here, telling him what to do in this situation.

Because the thing is, he thinks the criminal was being genuine. Miles believes him, and that for some reason he wanted Spider-Man protected, and it’s scary. Miles buries his head into the pillow and breathes shakily. The long night is starting to get to him. He needs to sleep. No more thinking about scary proclamations by a criminal that may or may not be true. That’s something for tomorrow.

Miles faces away from the window, and promptly falls asleep.


	2. I'm not Scared, I'm Not!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How much can I trust this guy, Ganke?" Miles asks, hands curling into fists. He's not stressed out, he's fine, he's Spider-man!" Should I even be this worried?"
> 
> "Honest?I'm not sure."

“Yo, Miles? Miles!” A finger prods at his cheek, and Miles groans, smacking it away.” Dude, wake up, you’re gonna be late for class!” The poking returns tenfold. Miles throws his hands up in surrender.

 “Okay! I’m up, Ganke, seriously…” Miles opens his eyes, and Ganke is watching him from the side of the bunk bed, unimpressed. Miles arches a brow. "What?” Ganke sighs.

“You stayed out pretty late, didn’t you? I heard you crashing into things!” His room mate gestures at the scattered school supplies and comic books. Ganke’s face morphs from annoyance into one of vague concern. "You’re not _hurt_ are you?”

“No! No, I’m fine.” Miles quickly assures, waving his hands. He hops out of bed, tugging on the first pair of (relatively) clean pants he saw. He hears Ganke take a sharp inhale of breath, and Miles braces himself. 

“Miles, c’mon, what’s the point of you telling me you’re Spider-Man if you’re gonna keep it all to yourself anyway?” Miles stubbornly keeps his back turned, finished dressing. He fixes his tie, and runs a hand haphazardly through his hair to fix it even if only a little bit. Ganke tries again. "Miles-!”

“Look, I’ll tell you at lunch, alright?” Miles retorts, shoving the scattered school supplies under the desk to be picked up later. He looks over his shoulder at his friend. "I haven’t really thought it through myself yet. I need to sort things out myself first, okay?” Ganke relents, shrugging offhandedly.

“Sure, man. Whatever you say.”

They walk out the door, conversation forgotten for now as they head to class. Miles’ head is buzzing, last night playing over and over in his head on repeat. As he thinks about it, maybe talking to Ganke would help him calm down a little. It’s good to get a second opinion, and since Ganke already knows his secret, Miles didn’t need to tiptoe around it.

His mind is made up. He’s going to talk to Ganke about everything that happened last night.

-

Ganke sets his lunch tray down in front of Miles, and Miles picks at his own lunch. He changed his mind, he’s not ready. Maybe his friend forgot and they can just let this slide away forgotten.

“Okay, Miles. Spill.” Or not. Of course he remembers. Miles sets his fork down with a sigh, looking up from the tray.

“Promise you won’t freak out too much?” Ganke furrows his eyebrows, suspicious. He pushes up his glasses.

“Dude, just tell me!” Miles takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Someone may be after me. I don’t know who or why, but last night one of the guys I took down went on, like, this whole speech thing, and he talked about how he still wanted me around and that he wanted me safe? And I’m freaking out about it, ‘cause what if he’s right? But he’s a criminal so I don’t know how much I can trust him, and-”

“Miles, dude, slow down!” Ganke interjects, trying to stop Miles from knocking over his own drink in his haste to get the story out. Miles blinks rapidly. He wasn’t aware of how animated he got, and can feel his accelerated heartbeat thrum beneath his fingers. Miles sets his hands down in his lap, drumming his fingers anxiously against his legs. Ganke gives him the time to collect himself.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ganke asks. Miles shrugs.

“How much can I trust this guy, Ganke?” Miles asks, hands curling into fists. He’s not stressed out, he’s fine, he’s _Spider-Man_! "Should I even be this worried?” Ganke hums, leaning back slightly.

“Honest? I’m not sure.” Miles grimaces at that, he did NOT want to hear that. Ganke continues. "I mean, he _was_ a criminal, but… I don’t think you should ignore it.” Miles relaxes a little.

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Ganke starts eating idly. "I think it’s worth paying attention to. I mean, a tip’s a tip, right? It’s not like the guy was trying to distract you to get free, the police got him, so I can’t really see the motive, y’know?” Miles nods.

“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. Thanks, Ganke.” The bell rings, signaling lunch is over. The two stand up, along with the rest of the student body. Miles is suddenly grateful they sat so far away. He picks up his tray, food barely touched.

“Hey Miles?”

“Yeah?” Miles drops his tray off, turning to look at his friend. Ganke’s expression is pinched, and he’s gripping the lunch tray tightly.

“If someone really is after you, you’ll be careful, right?” There’s a strange tone in his voice, it wavering slightly. "You’ll keep an eye out for yourself?” Miles’ expression softens, and he gives a small smile. His friend is worried.

“Of course, man. I’ll… I’ll try to keep the time I’m out short too. At least, until this blows over or nothing happens. Sound cool?” Ganke sets his tray down.

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Miles grins, bumping into his shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“C’mon, let’s get to class, we’re gonna be late.” They have maybe two minutes left, but they don’t really seem to mind as they walk to their respective classes.

“Miles?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks, dude. For telling me and stuff.”

“I’m glad I did.” Miles really was. He feels a lot better than he did, like he wasn’t overreacting.

He still had a problem, though. He needs to find out who’s hunting him, needs to scope out his world a bit more incase he encounters the problem. He needs to be ready.

-

Homework was finished early and quickly. Miles is already out on the streets. It’s even still bright outside.

The new Spider-Man is perched on one of the many tall buildings of New York City, scanning his surroundings. He has to assume, he finally reasons, that someone is hunting him, and he has to be ready. He has to know this city more than the back of his hand. He has to know every short cut, every hiding place, every inch of this place. Red eye lenses narrow at the busy street, the dark alleyways, and the bright advertisements. Spider-man will not be caught off guard, not on his own terf. He’ll know the slightest disturbance.

(He might be overconfident)

There’s a faint shout, and Spider-Man’s head swivels to that direction. He crouches low, pushing off of his post. Limbs barely flail as he soars through the air, much more comfortable in his own skin than he was even a month ago. Webs shoot out, connect, and Spider-Man swings through New York with a newfound grace towards the potential crime. Whatever’s coming, Spider-Man is ready.

Miles is ready.

-

There’s no eyes watching the new Spider-Man swing through the streets, not yet, but there’s plotting. A strategy is being made on both sides. It’s a matter of who’s more prepared.

It’s a matter of who’s better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo, another chapter! I love being on break and having a day off work.  
> I promise more will happen in the next chapters! Gotta set things up first, haha.  
> I hope you all love Ganke as much as I do. His personality is mainly my interpretation of the short scenes we get of him from ITSV, but he's kinda comic-based too.  
> We all need a friend like Ganke that's for sure!  
> Hope you enjoyed today's chapter! Stay tuned for more!  
> -Shaun
> 
> (the spacing seems weird this chapter, I've edited it like three times. Hope it looks fine)


	3. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles meets what he was warned about.
> 
> kinda...

Days go by without much conflict. There’s an attempted robbery here and there, but patrols have been eerily quiet. Miles makes sure to make it back to his dorm before 1am in the latest, after he found Ganke barely awake staying up waiting for him. It’s not like Miles didn’t understand it, because he totally did, but he doesn’t want Ganke to risk his health. So Miles tries to make the effort to come in early enough that his friend isn’t up too late. It’s the least he could do, Miles thinks, when he continues to go out there knowing the risks have doubled.

Miles is out again, soaring through New York City’s busy streets. Against the artificially lit windows, the red and black of Miles’ suit is much harder to spot than the original red and blue. The night time just made it especially easier to blend in, the shadows already doing enough than most cover could. Miles’ fingers graze the base of a flagpole, latching on and causing him to gracefully spin to a halt, gripping the metal pole with hands and feet. Miles watches the bright lights of the cars below. The streets are always busy, never at quiet. Miles finds that he likes that.

There’s a faint pricking sensation along the nape of his neck. Miles tenses, relaxation forgotten, dropping from the pole down to the ground defensively. Wide eye lenses stare at the empty rooftop. He can’t see anything, but his spidey sense continues to prickle along his spine. Miles decides he needs to move, rising from his defensive crouch. He is stepping backwards, back of his legs hitting the roof ledge, when the pricking spikes drastically, jolting his nerves into action. Miles leaps off the roof backwards, acting on instinct, and something whizzes above him with a sharp whistle.

Gravity takes him down to the streets below, and he spirals with it, quickly snapping a string of web to swing to safety. Miles swoops around the tall, windowed buildings fast enough that they blur and blend in his periphery. He makes purchase against one of those windows when his spidey senses dim. Miles takes a shuddering breath, glassy eyes wide and heart still pounding. Miles’ vision suddenly twirls, a sense of vertigo taking over. Miles gasps sharply as his body slips and he tumbles from the building head first. He panics, free-falling. His breathing is loud and ragged in his ears as the ground quickly approaches, the cold wind biting into his skin. Miles twists his body, aims his wrist at the first object he sees, and shoots. Red eye lenses struggle to stay open, despite the speed of his heart. The web barely makes purchase with its target, and Miles is jerked back into the air with seconds to spare. 

A car honks loudly when he barely skims across it, but Miles finds it hard to focus. He needs to get home. This patrol will have to end short. 

Miles jerkily swings back to his dorm where Ganke will be anxiously waiting, his movements graceless and strange.

-

Miles thunks face first into the dorm window, startling Ganke from his comic reading. Ganke scrambles to get the window open and pull the barely conscious boy inside. Red eye lenses twitch from their squinted position, as miles struggles to find purchase with the floor beneath him. 

“Miles, geez, what happened to you?!” Ganke whisper-shouts. His eyes dart to the time only to find it’s barely 11 o’clock. He helps Miles sit against the bed, and Miles weakly reaches up to tug his mask off. He’s sweating profusely, chest heaving irregularly, as his body struggles to fight something off. Ganke’s gaze catches on a long, thin scratch across the Spider-Man emblem, blood oozing out in a slow trickle. His eyebrows shoot up. “You got hurt.” Miles follows his eyes. 

“Huh,” is his plain response. “Didn’t even… didn’t even notice it.” His eyelids flutter and he shakes his head. His speech is beginning to slur. “Pr’bly heal… t’morrow…” Ganke brushes his palm against Mile’s forehead, feeling the heat coming off of his forehead, grimacing. 

“You’re burning up, man. C’mon let’s get you into bed. We can talk about what happened when you recover.” Ganke helps Miles to his fit, who lethargically picks at his suit, leaning against the bed frame. Ganke rummages through clothes and pulls out the first pair of sleepwear he finds. He hands it to Miles, miraculously half-out of the onesie already. The shirt is pulled over half-heartedly as Miles crawls up to his bunk. He’s out within minutes, and Ganke would have be money that the suit is still partially on (it’s happened before. He keeps record). 

Ganke flips the lamp at his desk off and slips into his own bed. He stares up at the top bunk, frowning. Whatever happened on patrol, whatever Miles was hit with, it was enough to affect his abilities with a graze. Ganke would be lying if he said it didn’t worry him. He takes a deep sigh, pulling the covers up to his shoulders. Feeling sleep take hold, Ganke fleetingly finds himself grateful it was a late start tomorrow.

-

“So you think you were attacked by that hunter the guy warned you about?” Ganke asks Miles as they’re enjoying the additional two hours of free time. Miles nods, shoveling more yogurt into his mouth. 

“Yup.” The other boy had completely recovered from his delirious state, back to normal. He gestured emphatically with his hands. “I was on one of my favorite rooftops when my spidey sense just went,” a frantic wave, symbolizing an explosion,” BOOM! And this little thing was shot at me.” Miles finishes his snack with an awkward shrug. “Didn’t see the guy though.” 

“You think whoever this was has been watching you?” 

“I have no idea.” A pause, then a thoughtful addition. “Might start changing up my routes though to test it.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Smugly, Miles grins and responds,” yeah, I sure think so!-”

“A  _ safe _ idea.” Ganke interjects pointedly. Miles rolls his eyes.

“Man, you sound like my dad.” Miles complains, but he gets the point, and he hopes Ganke can see that in his eyes. He had a brush with something scary dangerous, like Kingpin, and maybe he’s still reeling from it. He needs to keep himself safe. “I’ll be careful, Ganke, you know it.”

“You better. We had a whole conversation at lunch.” Miles smiles. His friend was trying to keep the feeling light like he was.

“Yeah. Yeah we did.” They share a small, honest laugh. Miles is forever grateful he has friends who care.

-

Sergei Kravinoff delicately holds the dart he shot at Spider-Man, eyeing the faint pink that ran down its needle shape. The Spider-Man had definitely been grazed, Sergei observes, which would have been enough for him to feel the effects of the poison meant to knock the hero out. Too bad the little hero got away, Sergei muses, crossing his bulky arms, needle placed on a table. He had misjudged the hero’s reaction time and awareness, and ultimately watched him swing away awkwardly from his hidden post. There’s a low buzz coming from his phone. Sergei picks it up from the table, answering the call without looking at the ID. 

“Hunter.” A familiar tone drawls out. “You made an attempt for Spider-Man two days before schedule.” Sergei hums.

“Don’t worry.” His thick russian accent rolls off in waves. “Just testing the poison. It works.” The voice doesn’t sound to pleased.

“Do not ruin this, Hunter. We need the hero alive, and we can’t have you captured by him because you’re reckless.” Sergei scoffs.

“Kraven will not fail,” Sergei,  _ Kraven _ , answers seriously. “The little spider stands small chance. You will have the spider.” Predatory eyes flash dangerously. “Only victory. Kraven will not let you down”

The receiver cuts off, and Sergei sets the phone down. He pulls up the video feed of last night, watching Spider-Man’s little body struggle with the first signs of the poison. Sergei’s mouth curls into a grin. What a fun hunt this will be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best Friend Ganke Lee really meets its purpose here.  
> Looks like I decided on who it will be, lol (secret: I already knew)  
> Sorry if updates lag! I am involved with my school's showing of Hunchback of Notre Dame, and that will dominate my LIFE!  
> Hope you enjoyed tonight's chapter!  
> -Shaun


	4. Look Both Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles can't just stop being Spider-Man!  
> What if someone needs him?

Ganke helped him sew up his suit, not that Miles actually needed help sewing it up-- he just figured it was rude to deny Ganke when he asked. It was a quick trip to Aunt May’s for the kit, and then the pair were hunched over on the floor of their dorm, laughing at each other’s attempts to stitch the suit together. 

(Aunt May offered to do the whole thing herself, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun, now would it?)

The endeavor took almost an hour, but the suit was as good as new for another patrol. Miles is pulling the black-and-red spandex on, antsy to get out after a day of complete rest, when he notices Ganke’s apprehensive glances at him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your homework?” Miles asks, pulling the rest of the suit up from his elbows. Ganke huffs a laugh, tapping his pencil against the almost-blank paper.

“Maybe my homework is worrying about your sorry butt.” 

Miles chokes on a laugh. “Ganke, come on! I can’t just stop going out ‘cuz of some hunter guy! Someone might need my help, and besides-- I gotta test out my theories too. Maybe switching my routes is the way to go!” Ganke looked like he was going to argue, but Miles knows he won when his friend just sighs and haphazardly scribbles another sentence. Thinking that would be it for the conversation, Miles tugs his mask over his face and heads to the window, sliding it open. He barely has one foot out of the frame when--

“Miles?” Ganke’s facing him now, homework forgotten. Miles looks at him expectantly. His friend seems to hesitate, like he isn’t sure how to exactly phrase what he wants to say. “Be careful,” he decides with. 

Miles gives him a thumbs up, “of course I will!”

Ganke watches Spider-man shimmer from sight, an invisible forced sliding the window closed, and reluctantly turns back to his homework. He chews his lip, trying not to let his anxiety over Miles’ wellbeing eat through him.

-

The chilly night wind bit through Miles’ suit as he swung, and if he wasn’t so confident in his and Ganke’s work patching it up, Miles would have thought that the tear in his suit was still an issue. But nope, the world is just that cold when it’s approaching November. Perhaps he should consider insulating his suit somehow, Miles muses idly, as long as it didn’t affect his mobility. The teen wondered what the logistics of that being possible was.

Despite the bustling, busy streets below him, it was a quiet night. Miles hasn’t yet spotted anyone committing a crime-- which is a good thing, don’t get him wrong-- and it was the perfect opportunity to test out his theory, but the calm seemed almost unnatural to Miles. It put him on edge, spider-sense a little more sensitive. Not even the stark neon of the glowing billboards were as distracting as they usually were. The black-clad Spider-Man swooped up onto one of those aforementioned boards, the lights complementing the black and red nicely in a pseudo-camouflage, resting on the ledge of the digital surface. Miles’ feet gently bumped against the pixels of the Koca-Soda advertisement as he gazes critically at the shadow-tinted corners of his city. Miles is sure he made quite the picture, perched like a vulture above the city, watching intently with his big bug eyes (the paper loves to describe his large lenses that way. Miles finds he doesn’t mind- it’s better than having bad press). Miles chuckles, fond of the image he’s painted for himself.

BANG!

Miles ripples, much like a cat would, as he comes to attention, posture defensive and lenses wide. The lid of a trash can rolls out from an alleyway to his left. Miles squints at it, sinking down to his haunches. He pushes off the billboard with a silent grace, the red-blue-white of the lights gliding off the black of his suit as he blends back into the darks of the accompanying buildings. He swings towards the alleyway with a near-silent thwip, making contact with the ugly brick of the grungy complex. Red lenses peak around the edge, trying to determine what the noise came from. 

Four men are stealing a car, it seems, but that’s not it. One guy has a crowbar to open the car up, but his buddies have sacks of… something. Miles can’t tell what it is for sure. His body shimmers out of sight, and Miles creeps along the wall closer to the criminals to get the drop on them. He can hear them muttering- something about a job they have to do, something about there being a reward for when it’s over. Typical bad guy things, Peter B would say, and Miles smiles at the thought of his atypical mentor. He wonders, flippantly, when he could see the older man and the rest of his spider friends again, coming to a stop over the car. Miles rotates so his back’s against the wall, and he aims his hand at the crowbar the guy’s trying to work into trunk.

“Hey, that doesn’t belong to you!” The criminals startle as the web splats against the tool, yanking it sharply out of grip as the vigilante leaps through the air,  bubbling into view. There’s a chorus of shouts, and Miles drops on the shoulders of one of the men, webbing his bald head and forcing him into a summersault, spinning the larger man into the ground. There’s a tingling in the back of his neck, and Miles jerks sharply to the left as someone takes a swing at him. Miles drops down, swinging his leg out as it catches the guy’s ankle, bringing him falling hard with a harsh “oof”. There’s a faint click, and Miles darts up, webbing a hand to the alley wall. The offender yelps, grasping at his wrist, what looks like an exacto knife in grip. The remaining unharmed criminal scurries to his aid, and he looks skinnier than Miles happens to be, blond hair ratty and thin as he shakily stands in front of his trapped criminal buddy. Miles squints one eye, standing up as he surveys the pair curiously. He places his fists on his hips, leaning forwards playfully. 

“Now, fellas, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He teases, then snaps his wrists forwards, sticking the two to the wall together before they could make a noise. “Thanks for choosing easy!” He laughs, but he cuts himself off, eyes focusing on what he can now see are duffle bags. He pads over, squatting in front of one as he reaches for the zipper. “Now what were ya smuggling, eh? New York’s next top illegal drug?” He pulls the bag open. He squints incredulously. “Whaaat?”

Inside the duffle was a variance of fruits, balled up paper, and the occasional brick. He reaches in and plucks out one of the papers, unwraps it. It’s just the morning paper. Miles turns and looks at the criminals in confusion. “Why in the hell would ya smuggle this?” Miles balks under the mask. The criminals are silent, and they aren’t even looking at him. There’s a sudden cold that drops into his stomach, and Miles goes rigid as his dormant spidey sense flairs up.

Something is shot at him. Miles yelps, tripping over his own feet in his attempt to dodge, and the something thumps noisily against the brick behind him. The black-clad Spider-man bubbles out of sight, skittering low to the ground and using the car as cover as he realizes just how trapped he felt in this alley. His joints stiffen in fear and his lenses widen. He was set up, this is a trap, he needs to leave, he needs--

He needs to get out!

Gangly limbs scramble for purchase, and Miles’ thoughts are frenzied. Another something is shot at him, catching the fabric on his arm, and if he was in a more controlled state of mind, Miles is sure he would have swore. Spider-Man leaps up the brick wall, form pulsing in and out of sight in his haste to get away. His feet slip on the greasy brick, and Miles chances a glance over his shoulder as his hand miraculously makes purchase with the ledge of the roof. 

Someone is standing in the mouth of the alley, burly hands clasped around a tube raised to his lips. There’s fur lining the man’s broad shoulders, looking like the mane of a hunter, but it’s his eyes that shake Miles to his core: the predatory glint in the steady amber irises that give Miles the unmistakable feeling of being prey. The man peers at Miles and smirks, and Miles is startled back into action as his breath hitches.

The man moves too, with a grace Miles would-- in a different circumstance-- be totally jealous of, easily scaling the brick Miles struggled with. Miles glances at his arm, where a sliver of his suit was torn, and panics.

Could he escape this guy, feeling like he did two-three days ago?

Miles quickly shakes his head, points his wrist and shoots, yanking himself off the roof. Miles’ skin crawls as he felt the graze of fingertips against his back, and feels a sudden relief that he’s airborne. 

The relief is short-lived as a hand wraps around his ankle, and Miles yelps as the weight of the bigger man forcefully pulls him to the roof of another building. He kicks blindly, catching the man harshly in the face. They roll apart, dust scattering, as Miles is freed from the man’s grasp. Miles flips to face him, posture defensive and ready to move, heart thudding rapidly. The man rises to his full height, towering over Miles as he wipes at his bloodied nose absently. His amber eyes seem to be appraising him, and Miles feels sick, but the drugs or whatever he was stuck with don’t seem to be affecting him as badly as they did. The man takes a step forward, slipping something into his hand, and Miles mirrors him by stepping back. The man chuckles.

“Not so chatty, little spider?” The heavy Russian accent lays thick in Miles’ fearful silence. “How disappointing. Little spider’s talk is funny to Kraven.” Miles swallows thickly.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Kraven just laughs, then he’s moving faster than Miles would have ever been able to predict. He gasps, quickly leaping from Kraven’s hands, one of which Miles can now see brandishes a hunter’s knife (long, and sharp, and oh  _ God _ is he going to die?!). Miles shoots a web at Kraven, smacking the man’s face with it, blinding him momentarily. Kraven grips at his face, growling lowly, and Miles side-steps the waving arms, jabbing his fist into the man’s side. His fingers spark for a hopeful second, only to flicker out and Miles grimaces, flipping away. He worriedly looks at his hands. He hasn’t had trouble with his venom strike since Kingpin. 

Miles realizes with a dread that this drug is affecting his powers, not his consciousness, a little too late. Kraven is on him again, this time his hand easily encompassing his neck as he’s slammed into the ground, knife abandoned. Miles flails, kicking at the larger man with as much strength as he can summon as he chokes and heaves for breath. Kraven leans down harder, and hums in amusement as Miles grapples at him, trying to pry his fingers away. 

“You fight well, for such a little spider.” Kraven comments, reaching to his belt and pulling out what appears to be a needle. Miles’ pulse skyrockets, and his struggling doubles in intensity. Kraven has the audacity to shush him, fingers parting to give space for the needle on Miles’ neck. 

“NO!” Miles rears his fist back, slamming it into the meat of Kraven’s forearm with a newfound strength, and he forces his weakening venom through the punch, startling Kraven off of him. Miles acts fast, taking that tiny window of opportunity and running with it. Miles scoops his feet under him and bolts, diving off the roof with a fleeting thought of  _ spider powers be damned _ . He can hear what he assumes is Kraven swearing, language foreign, as he swings away with shaking limbs. 

His muscles burn and his senses are going haywire as Miles swings and swings and swings, and he doesn’t stop. There’s the mantra of “thwip and release, thwip and release” echoing in his brain, and Miles finds himself wishing Peter B was here with him. This Kraven guy, whoever he is… Miles fears him more than he did Kingpin. 

Another flair in his spider sense. Miles twists hard to his left as a spear soars past him. He can see Kraven sprinting along the rooftops, lion-like, a good distance behind him. Miles flickers out of sight, going into a nosedive. It’s better if Kraven can’t see him. He rolls, head tucked between his shoulders, across the grimy puddles of roof water, and onto his feet. His fingers barely catch on the adjacent roof edge, powers ebbing and flowing, but he manages to slip into the cagey safety of the black fire escape without so much of a clang. Miles takes a pause there, pressed into the corner of the railings, invisible to the prying eye, and slowly lets out a breath. He’s not sure if he should, or if he even can, go back to Visions Academy until the hunter gives up on him. 

Distantly, Miles hears the gentle sound splashing water, and he holds his breath as it gets closer. The footsteps stop, and Miles dares to look up. 

Kraven is peering into the night from his position on the roof. Miles watches, tense, as for a second Kraven’s gaze brushes over his camouflaged form. Then, the man is gone, and Miles can hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, several distinct thuds of Kraven leaping off and away from the building, and then silence. Cautiously, Miles creeps out of the fire escape and back onto the roof, finding better purchase against the exterior than he did before. Kraven is nowhere to be seen. Miles double checks his surroundings, then sighs in relief. The black and red of his suit begin to bleed back into his surrounding, and he takes a step forwards.

He didn’t know Kraven was still there, waiting in the darkness for Miles to let his guard down.

There’s a soft sound of an air gun, and Miles jerks in surprise as something long and thin comes out of nowhere. He yelps, flailing as it wraps around his arms, trapping them stiffly to his sides. The sound fires again, and the same rope-like substance forcefully binds his knees together, knocking him over. Miles gasps as his face slams into the roof water, borderline hyperventilating as he twists and squirms against his binds. The noise of footsteps returns, and Miles cranes his neck to stare at the slow approaching Kraven. The hunter squats next to his captured prey, pressing a palm between Miles’ shoulders and pushing him flat to the roof. The blue venom sparks pathetically across Miles’ trapped fists, and Kraven could be seen reflected in his wide-fearful white lenses wearing a satisfied smile.

“Do not feel bad, spider.” Kraven comments, pulling the neck of the black suit down to reveal skin. He retrieves the same needle from before. “You did not know what I could do. You gave excellent chase.” Miles flinches violently, whimpering as the needle slides into his skin and he’s injected with whatever’s inside it. Miles feels the fight inside him forcefully wane and die, as the need to sleep shoves its way into his consciousness. A tranquilizer then. Kraven’s palm glides against the back of Miles’ skull, soothing in a sickening way, as Miles fights a losing battle of consciousness. The man’s hand squeezes his nape faintly. “Sleep, spider. There’s no use fighting.” Miles tries to muster the energy to say something back-- maybe about how he’ll always get back up, or he’ll never stop fighting-- but he slips into unconsciousness before he could, Kraven’s hand the last thing he registers as it all goes black. 

-

Sergei watches as his prey finally is claimed victim by the poison’s work, the tiny body limp and pliant with sleep. He slips his arm under the new Spider-Man’s waist, hoisting him up. The hunter slides down the building, making a quick journey to his vehicle, where he’ll put the little spider into a much more accommodating method of confinement. He opens up the reinforced crate that the spider will go in, removing the constricting rope around Spider-Man’s thin frame. Sergei observes his closed lenses, and just how small the vigilante was in the first place, and it wouldn’t be the first time Sergei thought of who the little spider was. But that wasn’t part of his job. Sergei closes and locks the crate, then pulls out a phone. He presses a button, presses the device to his ear. The other end picks up immediately. 

“Were you successful?” The receiver asks. Sergei hums in affirmative. “Is he unharmed?”

“Nothing that his healing will not cover for.” Sergei asures. “ You were told Kraven wouldn’t fail.” 

“You will be fully compensated. You know where to drop him off.” The call ends, and Sergei pockets the phone. He starts the engine, looking back at Spider-Man. Whatever happens next, it is not up to him. 

It is up to his employers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boooooy, this one is significantly longer than the others, isn't it?   
> I'm so so so sorry for the long wait! It was an impromptu hiatus for sure. School/life/everything just got in the way  
> Hope you enjoy the update!  
> -Shaun


End file.
